


Hierarchy to the Devil's Side

by CandyassGoth



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Albeit a clean mess now, Bedelia doesn't care, Bedelia is Done, Bedelia is a sassy bitch, Cannibalistic meals as a Courtship, Gen, Hannibal cares too much, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannibal is a conniving bitch, Hannibal is not a good boyfriend, Hannibal wants to hit that already, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Murder Husbands, Passive-aggression, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sarcasm, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Self-Denial, Sexuality Crisis, Unhealthy Relationships, Will doesn't know exactly what he wants, Will is a Cannibal, Will is a sassy bitch, Will is still a mess, and yet his boyfriend and friend stick around, or friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7204082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyassGoth/pseuds/CandyassGoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Season 03 Episode 13: The Wrath of the Lamb</p><p>***WARNINGS SPOILERS FOR END OF SEASON 3***</p><p>Takes place in (assuming) Bedelia's house, picks up where the end-scene left off. Hannibal prepares a dinner, Will is invited for dinner, and Bedelia doesn't let the pain meds hinder her ability to pass along dry sarcasm and blatant enabling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hierarchy to the Devil's Side

**Author's Note:**

> This show deserves as many seasons as they want. If I were rich I would personally help finance them. But that won’t happen while I’m writing free fanfiction, will it?
> 
> Nope but i’mma write anyway because i can’t help myself.
> 
>  **SPOILERS FOR THE LAST EPISODE S03E13** if you haven’t gotten there.
> 
> So this goes along the possibility that Hanni and Will survived and paid Bedelia a visit. For some reason Will and Bedelia are sassy bitches constantly at each other’s throats. I think they’re just so done with each other, Hannibal, and mostly themselves.
> 
>  
> 
> _I apologise for errors._

** Hierarchy to the Devil's Side **

 

“Meat made it to the menu.”

Bedelia blinked. She hadn’t noticed Will enter. He’d always been a sneaky little thing, perhaps in perfect complement to Hannibal. She was sure Hannibal was besides her just a moment ago, going on about the prophetic happenings in his life, all whilst preparing her for dinner. The room wafted with his usual aroma of cooking, decadent and worth the time and trouble.

Will walked at his leisure, hands in his pockets, dressed in a black velvet overcoat, no doubt compliments of their host. Hair neatened with a single curl, facial bristles trimmed, skin coloured and littered with aging scars. He looked as dashing as he ever did when with _him_ , the fawn now a deer, trotting alongside his stag.

He looked over the contents of the table with only the slightest crinkle of pity in his brows as if it bored him.

“I warned you, Bedelia. Don’t suppose you’d put more effort into hiding when you know its coming one way or another. What do we call it? Fate?”

Bedelia swallowed to clear her throat before daring to speak, not blind to the predatory lurking of Mr. Graham, despite his attempts at nonchalance. Time spent with Hannibal could train any lamb into a lion, but especially this one.

“...You said I...you said I deserved it. Though I did not expect to see you deal in my fate. Or perhaps I simply hoped...”

Will gestured to the table with a crude swivel of his wrist. “Oh, this isn’t me. I was invited for a _surprise_. I really don’t know why I _am_ surprised though. Of course he’d track _you_ down.”

“Hannibal does keep his promises.”

“While you kept his secrets.” 

Bedelia smiled, eyes fluttering to fend off the weight. She hadn’t been quite so medicated in a while. Hannibal had the strangest concept of mercy.

“…Better than keeping his company.”

Will took a beat to look put out.

“Which you also did.”

“Never as well as you...” Will may not have prepared her with Hannibal, but the fact that he’d been allowed out of Hannibal’s sight and trusted to come here on his own—which he did—by Hannibal’s invitation, and could stand calmly at the sight of her leg set across the table said more than enough of their current situation. Their ‘deaths’ had been weeks ago, almost two months. A lot could happen in two months between two people bound tighter than a noose. 

Will’s jaw clenched, and Bedelia found the strength to hold up her sardonic smile. Hannibal walked in the next moment with a serving bowl for the table, and his whole face lifted.

“Will, you’ve made it. Did you find the house all right?”

“Not much finding to do with Google Maps.” Will said as he veered away from Bedelia, his demeanour dropping considerably now that there was a bigger predator in the room. She inhaled gratefully with little else to do than be darkly amused as Will pretended to idle towards the very man who had destroyed him time and time again.

“Ah, the miracles of our era. Sit, Will, I’m almost done.” Hannibal said as he pulled out the chair straight across from Bedelia, beckoning Will in with a smile to make princesses weep.

Will didn’t bother taking off his coat (or acknowledge the smile with more than an _alright enough_ look), and stared at Bedelia through the steam lifting from her flesh as he sat. It smelt divine. She didn’t begrudge Will a sniff of his own when Hannibal disappeared back into the kitchen.

“…Are you in pain?” he asked after a moment, watching her sway every few breaths, her expression loose like a damp cloth.

She blinked slowly, and took a breath. 

“No more than you are.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever not been in some kind of pain.”

“Woe be to an empathic heart.”

Will regarded her, leaning back in his seat, sympathy lost, or perhaps discarded. 

“I am not surprised that it’s _not_ your heart we’ll be dining on. He never did rush over things, did he?”

“No…” She conceded calmly. “…But he didn’t stall telling me all about the…momentous occasion that was the inevitable consummation of your entangled fate.”

Will shrugged apathetically with one shoulder, a mask of Hannibal’s borrowed and set across his face. If she had the strength and courage, she’d fling a fork at him. 

“Yeah. Dropped us off a cliff. More than you ever did.”

“You elected to fall and sacrifice yourself... I cannot and could not profess to have _fallen_ for Hannibal. Not quite like you did...”

“Always so clever, Bedelia.”

“Please do excuse me. I’m a little…out of sorts.” It took every inch of her sanity to ignore the phantom itch on her left ankle. Maybe there was a fly circling the dish.

Will didn’t need to see the pills to know she was as high as a kite, but he did wonder if she’d be hobbling and screaming if she wasn’t. 

Across the table Bedelia wondered the same thing.

Hannibal waltz back in with their plates half full and placed it in front of each of them, giving them both a squeeze to the shoulder. Bedelia did nothing to acknowledge it. Will nodded and gave Hannibal a courtesy look, the corresponding hand curling and uncurling. Conditioned response, perhaps. Force of habit, maybe.

“She is right, Will, you’ll have to excuse her. I gave her something to distance her from herself.”

Will laughed out loud at the pun, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked tired. In a resigned state of content. It seemed Hannibal possessed all the zest in the room.

The pair exchanged a few words lost to Bedelia in her befuddled state, purposely blurring her own vision here and there, although the blurring of her guests had nothing to do with the medication.

Hannibal served her first, detailing now _why_ he’d chosen this recipe for this occasion. Earlier, before Will’s arrival, when her flesh was still red and soft, he’d detailed _how_. 

She didn’t take in much of it much like the entire day, content with letting her senses cloud until Hannibal was off serving Will with an addition few touches to his shoulder. Will took them with little fuss, needing just one tempting look up at Hannibal to believe he wanted them. Bedelia smiled again. 

Next their glasses were filled with the wine Hannibal had brought along, and Hannibal carefully wrapped her hand around her glass before seating himself in the middle of the table, and looked left to right as he held up his glass. 

“Here’s to my two favourite people. Buon Appetito.”

Will toasted with him, grumbling before taking a sip. “I wish you’d told me beforehand who we’d be dining with…”

Hannibal shot him a guilty, disgustingly mischievous smile. 

“My heart was set. I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it.”

“My compassion for Bedelia isn’t quite so substantial.”

“But you would have still tried.”

Bedelia blinked her agreement, strangely glad for the familiarity where this Will Graham was concerned, while Hannibal began dinner and took her by the mouthful with a self-appreciating hum.

Will sighed into his plate, poking at the meat and the beautiful serving of vegetables. “God, I’m dining with _two_ physiatrists that I have no secrets from.”

“True enough to say out loud. I was just telling Bedelia of our journey to this moment.”

Will finally skewered a couple baby carrots, and after a hesitant pause, a slice of meat. He stared at it, as Bedelia stared at him, the glass stationary in her hand. 

“…Did _you_ use the word ‘consummation’ or is that all her?”

Hannibal smirked, holding the second forkful to his mouth in favour of watching Will. 

“Bedelia was always our confidant. And now there is no reason to be vague.”

“And she egged you on like a vulture to a wolf.” Will said, glaring at Bedelia, but ultimately it was Hannibal he settled on when he took his first bite. He did it slowly and thoroughly, eyes shifting as they locked onto Hannibal’s, pink tongue poking out once.

Hannibal sat up, satisfied at the restrained surfacing of pleasure that rippled across Will’s face, and ate a third helping of his own before smiling at Bedelia. 

“Not at first. For a long time she did try to dissuade me.”

With the way Will was looking at her, one would think Hannibal was delusion and Will had been the one to create this evening. She smiled and honoured them both with eye contact, and finally sourced the strength to bring her glass to her lips. “His heart was set...”

Hannibal wriggled just like the cat that got the cream.

“And you had it coming.” Will shot weakly, the food’s aroma making his mouth water. He ate another two mouthfuls, and felt his heart skip a beat at the unmistakable taste. It’d been almost four years since dining and luring Hannibal, almost four years since that devastating evening, but he could still remember that taste and texture. And sadly Hannibal’s three year incarceration did nothing to hinder his culinary feats.

“Don’t fault Bedelia too much. Just add it to my pile.” Hannibal said.

Will scoffed, beautifully brusque as ever. “Oh yes, _dear_ , I plan to.”

Bedelia forked a helping of vegetables, highly aware of Hannibal’s sharp eyes. She got it to her mouth with more strength than she thought she had, and after chewing long enough swallowed and finally, tentatively, impaled a slice of meat.

She looked up to stall, never one to miss a development in the disturbing anomaly that was their relationship.

“...Am I to hear a happy announcement? Or are pressed suits and silk underwear still not among Will’s interests?”

Will knocked his cutlery loudly to his plate, shaking his head and reaching for a large gulp of wine. “‘ _Still_ ’? Jesus, how much did you two talk about me?”

Bedelia twirled her fork, pretending not to feel the black eyes on her face as she watched Will squirm tellingly. “Once a day, at least... More when I feared he’d gotten bored... You always did calm his twitching so magnificently with your own.”

If looks could kill, Hannibal would be proud of his twitchy protégée. 

“...This is delicious.” Will said, _taunted_ , as he chewed his next slice, eyes fixed on her heated face.

She took a grounding breath through the nose, and let it out slowly as she lifted the fork to her lips.

“It is.” She said, and took a slow, gentle bite of her offering. 

Will cocked a brow at her. She was too disorientated to decipher it. She’d take it as being reluctantly impressed. He wasn’t the only one who spent enough time with Hannibal to…participate, reasoning and sanity aside.

“ _She_ is.” Hannibal corrected, amused.

Will missed his next bite to blink condescendingly. “ _She_ is still _alive_ and I am being courteous keeping _her_ down.”

Hannibal smiled guiltily, miles from apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

There was no bite in either of their tones. Hannibal was smug and sated. Will was calm and compliant. There was a truce, a middle ground, something she might have missed Hannibal speak of. Or perhaps the pieces just fell into place along with them when Will sent them over. Hopelessly and tragically in love with hopeless and tragic love. No two had ever deserved each other so. 

Bedelia took another delicious mouthful. Was it a blessing or a curse that her tongue was working just fine? Bedelia hummed to show her bland appreciation, allowing Hannibal to bask with well hidden narcissism. She took another sip of wine, and regarded him in mock seriousness.

“Pity though. Will needs...stability. I think a ring of eternal promise would suit him well.”

Further amusement sprung across Hannibal’s face, so unlike his usual demeanour. She’d seen so much of him, _enough_ of him, but she’d never seen him smile quite so much so _openly_. Without cold vindication or dark promise. Rather it was cloying. How _did_ Will handle its sticky nature? Subconsciously, it seemed, each time he responded to Hannibal without thought. Currently he did so by accepting a second glass of wine and watching silently when their fingers brushed and bumped more than necessary, like something remote and far off.

“So do I, but I couldn’t dare ask it of Will just yet. He has been more than generous.” Hannibal said, sharing his amused smile with his food, while Will shot them both an unimpressed look, sipping down half of his wine.

“After pushing you off a cliff.”

“Fait accompli. And I didn’t say we were perfect.”

“No couple is perfect. But you do bear no boundaries. I’d argue, in your case, it is as close to perfection as can be...” She paused to chew and swallow another mouthful, as well as another sip of wine to combat the squeezing of her stomach. She looked to Will, who was now scarfing down his food much like one of his dogs. Again, their relationship both unnerved and intrigued her. “...Have those boundaries wandered into physicality?”

Will lurched and stabbed his fork into the meat set across the table, the silverware rattling.

“ _You are such an enabler_.” He spat, clearly revelling in the way she flinched, fork tumbling from her fingers and off the plate.

“She’s only asking a question, Will.” Hannibal picked it up for her with a ‘ _I’ve got your back_ ’ wink—probably like he had her leg. He turned back to Will and yanked the fork out of Bedelia’s leg, handing it back to Will with a little gleam in his eyes that made Will twitch. “And a little jealous, I think.”

“No, she’s still playing the left hand of the Devil. I’m right here. I _can_ follow along, if you haven’t forgotten.” Will fussed, stabbing the fork back into his own food. He ate the rest of it angrily now, as if Bedelia could feel each bite, any inhibitions dissolved. 

Hannibal shrugged. “Not at all. But why avoid the road to Heaven?”

A heavy flush went across Will’s face. Anger, indignation, and repressed lust. If Bedelia could see it all from across the table, Hannibal could most certainly smell it from where he sat.

“You do when it’s paved with good intentions. There is nothing good in her intentions bringing up _marriage_ and—and _sex_. And you’re all too happy to play along, as usual. Have I not given enough?”

Hannibal’s silence was answer enough. For Will that is, who blushed so prettily, knowing the answer yet bothering to ask, no doubt an eggshell they most likely treaded over before.

Not so for Bedelia.

Bedelia stared at her cooling flesh on the table with her unique brand of equanimity, lifting her gaze slowly to the emotional-collage that Will called his face, equipped with a metaphorical stapler and handful of papery colours.

“...As far as I am concerned, no... It would be the prevailing climax to witness how you have succumbed entirely to Hannibal’s desires. As much as I may deserve this, you were clearly _designed_ for _that_.” She smirked half-heartedly at Will, whose shiny crystallized eyes darkened. 

“It’s your evolution, just as Hannibal has his. Divine Darwinism.” It was only by a miracle that they couldn’t procreate. Bedelia was—though far from religious—quite literally convinced their offspring would be the anti-Christ.

Will stared at her, most of his plate consumed with barely a bat of an eye lash. He proved so by helping himself to a little extra meat, upon which Hannibal took the liberty of pouring sauce over for him, and passing him an extra bit of bread. The colour in Will’s cheeks was no doubt entirely Hannibal’s doing.

Will eventually shrugged stonily.

“Survival of the fittest then.”

“Now, now. I bought us together for a meal, not passive aggressive bickering.” Hannibal put his hand over Will’s, but Will snatched it away scowling, and jabbed his fork in the air.

“She started it. Now why don’t you make some witty comment about having Bluebeard’s wives at the same dinner table, Bedelia?”

Far too _distanced from herself_ to react to the crackling in the air, and the possibility of Will actually throwing a fork at her, she sighed heavily and shrugged back at him, wishing bitterly she could have crossed her legs instead. 

“I don’t have to. You already thought it.”

The smile from Hannibal was almost worth it all, and it quickly found its way to Will who was looking deliciously cornered, flustered and upset and no doubt in denial about as much as Hannibal had come to accept as pure fact. Of course Hannibal would use her as a symbol of his willingness to initiate a sexually intimate monogamous relationship with Will. She was the courtship gift, an unnecessary display of eliminated competition.

“I’m afraid she’s right, Will.”

Will turned his fork on Hannibal this time, but his hand was shaking, his lips needing constant wetting and his eyes darting. He was no more a threat to Hannibal than he was to Bedelia, perhaps only a threat to himself. The war was over, but he was still staggering across the battlefield. Hannibal must love calling out to him from the shadows with promises of aid, just to watch him scurry back and forth as his mind fought his heart.

“Did you bring me here to have back up with your _confidant_ and hound me with this? And here I was just saying how patient you are.”

“Patience would not move that horse.”

Will looked comically bewildered, and looked at Bedelia as if she had had _any_ say in this. 

“I’m sorry, is this couple’s counselling?”

Hannibal chuckled with implication, swirling his glass innocently under his nose. “It really was just a dinner, Will. I’ve said far less than either of you to have directed this train.”

“You don’t need to _say_ anything. All _you_ need to do is whisper. And you’ve had a lot of whispering time with Bedelia while cooking.”

Getting through the last of her meat and a biscuit, Bedelia leaned towards Hannibal. He politely steadied her hand when her glass threatened to topple. She barely felt the contact.

“...Have you tried _that_ approach with him?”

Will snorted loudly into his own wine. “Oh, I’m sure you’d know all about _that_ approach.” He clearly was ripe with jealousy and it was utterly ridiculous, especially when he continued to pretend otherwise. 

Hannibal regarded him like an ill behaving child. “Will.”

Bedelia wasn’t as kind. She sat up as straight as she could, portraying as much dignity as one could whilst Hannibal nibbled on their roasted flesh. She sneered just enough for Will’s shoulders to hunch and let him see in her eyes as much as he wished.

“Let me calm your delicate emotional disposition by assuring you that it was never whispers for me so much as they were _at_ me. You needn’t feel that inappropriate, traitorous stab of burning jealousy. I was his, but he was always yours.”

Will looked just about ready to stab her directly this time, panting quietly at his end. And yet, he gave no refute. He was on the cusp, and Hannibal brought him here to push him over, and be there to catch him. Perhaps she should have tried listening earlier, she might’ve missed some juicy details of Will’s new inner turmoil.

She looked at Hannibal in triumph the same time Will looked at Hannibal, his fists clenched and lips parted silently.

Hannibal sat back, as if to stay out of it, although he looked anything but ashamed. In fact he looked gloriously entertained with his crooked smile, his newly tailored person-suit infuriating as much as it was unnerving.

“Dessert?” He offered, his cheeks twitching.

“Only if I can watch you _feed_ it to him.”

“Only if she’s _in_ it.”

Hannibal Lecter smiled.

“Looks like we have a conundrum, my dears.”

 

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a conversation that they had in my head, and my gut told me to record as they went. I thought it turned out pretty cool. Personal-achievement writing something mature and not porn related.


End file.
